


A Day in the Life of a Ranger

by Ajora Fravashi (ajora)



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Tamers
Genre: Gen, Take Your Fandom to Work Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-07-11 18:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7064398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajora/pseuds/Ajora%20Fravashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Ryo wishes he could run away from adult responsibilities. Other times, his job isn't so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life of a Ranger

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, so my work is very similar to this, just... in another division, I suppose. Any and all changes are to fit with the Japanese setting.

**4:30 a.m.**

No reasonable person is up this early, but Ryo frequently eschews reason if there was a good enough excuse. Even if it is still too early for tourists, he hates having to deal with traffic. Besides, its not like he had anyone to share chores with; Monodramon is useless in the morning and he hasn't had a romantic partner since college. After a dozen relationships failed because he had difficulty connecting with anyone to the extent that's expected of him, he'd long since given up on the idea. Besides, no one reasonable would put up with him waking up and banging around the kitchen this early. Certainly no one would put up with his baggage. Which was just as well.

He starts his tea in a samovar he picked up on a grad school trip to Sakhalin ( _Karafuto_ , a tiny part of him insists, though he is painfully aware that the island never belonged to either Japan or Russia until Imperial Russian expansionism and the panicked Meiji-era response got in the way; the Ainu people who were ousted during World War II called it _kamuy kar put ya mosir_ and he tries to use the Ainu names whenever he writes up educational materials because it never really felt right to use Japanese in a land that historically wasn't). His mother would cluck disapprovingly over his dumping the contents of the samovar's kettle in a thermos, as there were _certain ways in which we do things_ and civilized people sat around the samovar to enjoy their tea in dainty little cups with metal handles, but he has other things to do. So he lets his tea brew to a strength that most people usually temper with sugar and milk, and leaves it as black as that little part of his soul that must have engendered his partnership with Millenniumon. After all, if the digimon reflects the soul of the partner, what does that say about him?

Breakfast when he's in a hurry is usually savory Russian-style pancakes with batter made the night before, or rice left to cook in a pot while he got other things ready; today it's a set of syrniki topped with sour cream and eggs fried with slices of kolbasa like Ma used to make. Monodramon, who shuffles bleary-eyed after him, scarfs down his share and drifts back to sleep at the table. Because of the tasks he has planned for the day, he needs a higher calorie breakfast than usual. Leftover pork pirozhki and onigiri he dumps in a gallon-sized freezer bag, because he always has lunch with Monodramon out in the field and some days this ritual is the only thing that keeps him sane.

When he's done with breakfast and has his uniform on ( _who thought chartreuse was an acceptable color for a uniform shirt?_ ), he grabs his lunch and his snacks and the bag he had since he was a kid and heads out of the hut he calls a house out of kindness. It's big enough for him and Monodramon, and that's really all he needs. His truck is full-sized and older than him. Thanks to the rural exemption in government regulations, he can get away with driving it so long as his destination had adequate parking space. It's big enough for Cyberdramon to ride comfortably in the back, and he sometimes makes extra money hauling things for locals who need more carrying capacity than _kei_ -class trucks can offer. Monodramon has to be lifted into the passenger seat and buckled in; he keeps falling asleep at this hour. Ryo never minds it, though, and he always keeps the radio off on the trip to work. He shoves everything but his thermos into the floor of the passenger seat, and then it's off to work.  
  


**5:30 a.m.**

The parking lot of the park ranger's office building doesn't have a slot quite big enough for his truck, but he's the first in the lot and therefore the first to leave at the end of the day when he does have to spend the day in the office. There were a few heavy-duty trucks on the road, but those he doesn't mind as much. It's already light and has been for the past hour, but most sane people in town are still asleep. Monodramon slept the entire way and only wakes up long enough to follow him as he unlocks the employees' entrance door and turns off the alarm. His office is the first door on the right, and the window offers a view of the parking lot, the Sekihoku rail line past that, and the train station's maintenance buildings further still. Kamikawa is surrounded by mountains and they loom beyond the maintenance buildings as a persistent reminder of what he is really here for when he feels like he is drowning in paperwork.

Monodramon settles into the spare chair to go back to sleep while Ryo stuffs their lunch in his refrigerator. It had technically been requisitioned for biological samples, but it was just the right time of year for it to be empty and clean. Souvenir magnets that ranged from tacky to tasteful kept everything from business cards to inspection sheets in place on the refrigerator; he hadn't been one to actually buy much in the way of souvenirs until he got this job and found the bleak white expanse of the refrigerator to be depressing to look at. Similarly, he has postcards sharing corkboard space with a calendar, memos, and pictures of the rarer wildlife he finds in the field. His walls are practically a dedication to spatial analysis; there are maps of the restricted areas, maps marking visitor interest sites and the publicly accessible areas, maps marking endangered wildlife populations, and so on. Odd rocks and mineral samples keep his bookshelves looking interesting, and desk toys and a bonsai tree keep his hands occupied when he has mandatory teleconferences to attend. For all his clutter, the only truly personal thing he feels he has is a framed photo of himself and Osamu at eleven, and Ken at nine. It is a relic of a past life, and one he still clings to when his current life got too overwhelming.

As his computer loads, he rifles through the pile in his in-box; leaving early usually means he isn't there when mail comes in. There are a few magazines that everyone in the office got, some issues of science journals relating to his field work (which he sorts out into the ever-growing pile of things he doesn't really have time to read), and a few letters from professionals and would-be interns that he will have to answer the next day. His e-mail in-box is in worse shape, and he skims through most of it to pick out meeting reminders to note down and whatever actually requires a response. Sometimes he wishes he could still get away with dropping off the face of the earth for ten months. Sometimes he wonders if he made a terrible mistake.

 

**7:00 a.m.**

The maintenance crew arrives at half after six, mill around the break room to discuss the day's tasks, and leave again by seven. Thirty to fifteen minutes before seven is when the administrative officer comes in to start her coffee. She drops by to talk at him because there's no one else in the office that's not in a meeting, and he chuckles at her jokes on cue (most of the time he doesn't get them, or doesn't think they're very funny). At some point, he agrees to go with her for ramen over the weekend. She smiles at him and excuses herself when the coffee is done, and comes back to bring a mug for Monodramon. Monodramon is the only one she allows to drink her special blend of coffee, and Monodramon adores her for it because her special blend includes cinnamon and mocha syrup. Ryo expects nothing other than simple friendliness from her actions; she's as gay as he is and as mixed as he is (he is Japanese, Russian, and Ainu; she is Japanese, Samoan, and Okinawan) and they stick together for solidarity. Thirty after seven is when she unlocks the visitor entrance door and starts work in databases that seem completely mystifying to him.

The coffee is what finally gets Monodramon to wake up. His steel fingers wrap around the mug and he slowly comes to awareness as he sips his coffee, and Ryo continues his work on a report concerning visitor impact on biodiversity that's due entirely too soon. He has an almost embarrassing amount of photos of the indigenous Ussuri brown bears and Japanese pikas that he uses for powerpoints and reports. Most of the big, photogenic animals are not of great concern conservation-wise, but they're popular with visitors and he usually sends a few new photos to the volunteer who handles social media. He's a little more protective of the photos of parnassius eversmanni daisetsuzanus and clossiana freija asahidakeana; the butterflies are indigenous only to the area and considered near-threatened species despite his repeated attempts to have them reclassified as vulnerable due to global warming melting the snow pack earlier each year. He keeps their breeding habitats under special observation and ensures that the eggs he does find are well away from visitors. The varieties of lagotis yesoensis native to the area are considered endangered, and mostly due to trampling. His seedlings look promising, though, and he plans on establishing them well away from careless hikers and campers once his environmental impact statement is reviewed and he's given the go-ahead.

"Ryo, can we go?" There's a hollow sound as Monodramon sets the mug on Ryo's side-table that's usually for large maps. "I'm awake now."

Ryo feels a little more grateful for saving his document and closing out of the word processor than he should be, but he really doesn't want to spend the entire day on it. He unplugs the GPS unit from its charger and pulls out his camera and dictation recorder, gathers his gear and packs his cooler for lunch. A sticky note saying "Fieldwork" is stuck to the front of his office door as soon as Monodramon is ready. It's time to do the kind of work he actually liked.

 

**8:00 a.m.**

The drive from Kamikawa to Souunkyo, a gorge once known as Souunbetsu ("river with many waterfalls") to the Ainu people and now home to a handful of tourist resorts, doesn't take too long even with the early-rising visitors on the road. Ryo privately disapproves of the hotels and spas that reek of cigarettes, and the great ugly dam that tamed one of the tributaries to the Ishikari River, but the relationships that make conservation possible in Japan are those of partnerships with private entities. For the sake of peaceful relations, he keeps his strong environmentalist tendencies close to his chest and vents to Monodramon in places where no one can hear him.

Naturally, the first mishap of the day starts with lost tourists. He generally doesn't mind them, even with the alarming new popularity of taking selfies with _megafauna_ of all things (he wrote a very tersely-worded post for the social media volunteer to put up, which ended up so watered down upon posting that he may as well have not bothered), but his driving into a service road leading to the gravel lot where he usually parks his truck should have been completely unhampered. Today there's a middle-aged couple driving on that (very clearly marked) one-way road and he has to back out just so they can leave, and he ends up giving them directions to the ropeway parking lot because his uniform is like a neon sign advertising that he has all the answers. How they missed the signs on their way to the service road is beyond him, because the signage is big, legible, and in both Japanese and romaji. At this point he simply assumes that reading comprehension is a lost art.

After parking in the small decomposed gravel lot hidden by trees, next to one of the maintenance _kei_ -class trucks, he starts with the condition assessment. Technically the maintenance division should be keeping track of this kind of thing, but they're stretched thin as it is and he doesn't mind including it in his tour. He lays his rock hammer next to a patch where the gravel has been worn so thin as to expose the dirt beneath; it's a habit that he picked up from his geology days in college as a way to include a known scale into a photo and it proves to be useful now. The photos he takes goes into a brief report for the maintenance division so that they'll know when to resurface the lot and how much they'll have to spend replacing that much gravel.

The next few hours alternate between discussing his upcoming business trip to Shiretoko with Monodramon (he'll be there for a week to help out a colleague with a wildlife survey at the known haul-outs for the Steller sea lion) and taking down notes and photos as they hike the Momijidani trail. While it's not a difficult trail for Ryo, it's a struggle for people who don't usually climb mountains. It's a spectacular walk during the fall when the colors turn, but the spring is a good time for him to focus on the trailside flora and potential dangers in the trail. Still, it's hard not to turn his head every time he passes the waterfalls or exposed bits of columnar jointing in the cliffs. He'd initially gotten his master's degree in volcanology, but volunteering and internships (and maybe some firm nudging from Hypnos) landed him in the field of natural resource protection. As they rest at the Momiji Falls for a snack of venison jerky, Ryo decides that the paperwork isn't so bad when he has this kind of work waiting for him when he needs it.

 

**12:30 p.m.**

Ryo sums up the Momijidani trail survey in his dictation recorder thus: 1) there is a noticeable population increase among the Ezo deer which is resulting in critical damage to the bark of several trees (he needs to renew his hunting license and verify hunting restrictions with the population management program); 2) erosion from snowmelt created a pit and reduced the surface of a low-lying span of trail to 30% (he marks the GPS coordinates and lays down his rock hammer for a photo); 3) there appears to be a red fox den about seven meters from the trail, three hundred meters in, which he leaves alone but for a couple of photos of the mother slinking nearby; 4) the sign marking the falls needs a fresh coat of paint. And so on. When his survey is done, he and Monodramon head back to the truck for lunch.

They make short work of the pirozhki and onigiri, and of the apples Ryo had stashed away in the cooler the other day. Monodramon talks about this show Ryo keeps forgetting the plotline to because he never read the books, and Ryo nods along to his partner's theories concerning upcoming episodes. Ryo barely remembers when he was last invested so much in fiction; it had to have been before the D-1 Tournament. Afterwards it seemed hardly worth it to care about much of anything (Millenniumon, upon the few times he talks, calls this apathy a sign of depression and Ryo refuses to listen to him or talk to a professional). Hell, he had struggled so much with college because of that apathy that he didn't think he'd complete his degree plan. These days it doesn't matter how much he wants to ignore the world and stay in bed some days, because no one else is going to do his job. He'd become a master at working like an automaton and smiling along to all the social cues and saying just the right inane drivel to keep people from realizing anything about him. And so long as he keeps moving, keeps climbing the mountains, tracking wildlife, and taking care of his plants, he can be happy and pretend that all _that_ happened to some other broken little boy.

In time, when he's done feeling disgusted with himself for dwelling a few seconds on his personal drama, they drive off to the Souunkyo Ropeway terminal. He'd already covered the Kurodake climbing trail earlier in the month, and climbed the grounds beneath the ropeway to pick up litter the week after that. This trip is to do an informal botanical survey of the Kurodake area starting from the end of the ski lift and beyond. He and Monodramon join a group of tourists, and the tourists take notice of them immediately.

Digimon, while still a novelty to the world at large, are mostly accepted as anomalies by the general public. This was due to damage control by Hypnos a few years after the D-Reaper incident, and the interviews that followed served to normalize digimon to the average person as sapient creatures. Takato and Guilmon were groomed as spokespeople, ostensibly because they were so personable. The first five years after the D-Reaper incident was marked by a media flurry which died down after a while, and the Ch— Tamers (Ryo's mind keeps wanting to supply _"Chosen Children"_ instead, and he has to correct himself each time) were left to live their own lives with little intervention. In adulthood, some of the digimon even have careers. Monodramon is his assistant, and is so invaluable in search and rescue operations that he has an hourly wage. Renamon and Ruki ended up somewhere in the Japan Self-Defence Force, but Ryo doesn't remember their positions or ranks. Jianliang and Terriermon are researchers in Hypnos. Takato and Guilmon work in the Matsuda family bakery, and Takato has a side gig with Shaochung drawing manga. Ryo doesn't really know what happened to the others, though he's sure they're fine. He'd fallen out of touch in college because of that dark patch he was in at the time and never quite followed up with them afterwards beyond a few text messages here and there. Not that it really mattered; he never did quite belong anyway.

In the end, it's not Monodramon that holds their attention, it's his uniform. Though volunteers usually handle hosting tours, he seldom refuses the request. As the gondola rises, he explains the volcanic origins of the mountains surrounding them and points out geological features, and humanizes it all by tying in the toponyms with the origins of several Ainu legends. These mountains were, after all, once called the _kamuy mintara_ , the playground of the gods. A couple of tourists ask about the features they saw coming in, the cliffs that look like they were carved by great machines. He explains that it's a completely natural effect; the structures are columnar joints, which form in this area by welded tuff (his eyes might light up a little, and he narrowly avoids discussing similar features in Ireland, Scotland, the United States, and even Mars). Aware of the eyes on him, he stops from going too deep into the geophysics of volcanism that results in such structures and moves on to the fauna. It is, admittedly, not the most dispassionate subject for him to address (he loves the bears and has names for every one he encounters in his line of work), but they're approaching the end of the ropeway and the beginning of the ski lift and visitor safety is important. He warns them to be aware of their surroundings, to avoid drinking stream or lake water without boiling it (the tapeworm echinococcus is dangerous, can be fatal, and symptoms don't show up until years afterwards), and don't approach any bear cubs because the mother will be nearby, and then they land and disembark.

The ski lift is almost a relief because he doesn't have to talk anymore. Halfway to the end of the line, his handheld transceiver clicks and a call comes in from headquarters. "Ryo here." It's terribly unprofessional, but he's pretty sure it's his admin officer friend trying to get ahold of him and they never use formalities with each other.

It is her, and her normally clear voice is distorted by radio noise. "Ryo! Hey, is Monodramon up for action?"

"Sure am!" Monodramon exclaims. Search and rescue gives him the opportunity to evolve to Cyberdramon, and most times he looks forward to it. Cyberdramon can usually do the work of a helicopter team with far fewer chances of casualties that might occur should there be an accident.

"Great! We just got a report of a climber stuck off that overlook in Nagayamadake where you two took that photo of Numanotaira. Where are you guys?"

Ryo looks west, though the overlook isn't visible from this vantage point. He knows the area well, and there's a thirty to forty meter drop from the overlook to the ground beneath it. It's not promising, but "climber" usually means someone with some sort of gear. "Kurodake ski lift. It's a seven kilometer trip, then. Any reported injuries?"

The pause that follows lasts for several seconds; she's likely talking to someone on the phone. "Not that this guy's buddy knows of. I'll let them know you're coming. Thanks. Take care."

The radio clicks off and Ryo considers his options. The ski lift is not as fast as it could be, but the trip is under a kilometer and they'll reach the unloading area soon enough. But…

Without a word, Monodramon drops off the chair and quickly goes from Strikedramon to Cyberdramon on the way down. Great, torn blood-red wings that defy physics spread and Cyberdramon never quite reaches the ground. Gasps ride the wind from all the other chairs, and Ryo mentally tamps down the wellspring of fondness for the fact that he and his partner rubbed off on each other a lot over the years. As if in answer, Cyberdramon flashes him a quick grin as he positions himself for Ryo. Fortunately, there were no children or teenagers in the group that took the ropeway up, so he doesn't worry over the thought that he's setting up a terrible example. He drops off the chair for only a couple of feet and lands on Cyberdramon's back. By now his hands find purchase in Cyberdramon's armor purely by instinct, and they fly off to the overlook of Nagayamadake.

 

**2:15 p.m.**

The older he gets, the deeper the arctic chill of the mountain winds bite into his bones. Still, it is a necessary discomfort and Cyberdramon covers six kilometers pretty quickly. They avoid the main trail by skirting north of Keigetsudake and heading west until they round Mount Aibetsu to arrive at Nagayamadake. The overlook is off the main trail by half a kilometer and there's still snow filling in the nooks and crannies of the mountains. The soil is thin over the basalt bones of the mountains, but lava had collapsed over this part of the mountain and glaciation scooped out the rest of its side. It's not technically a bad place for a novice mountaineer, especially if they choose one of the smaller cliffs to climb, but the winds are strong and the permafrost isn't as permanent as it used to be.

Cyberdramon sees what Ryo assumes is the climber's friend and slows to land nearby. The person looks to be barely over eighteen, presents as male, and was some variety of foreigner (Ryo couldn't place the flag pin on the kid's pack; he can only assume it's from somewhere in Europe). The little anime keychains on the kid's pack betrays his reason for being in Japan, and Ryo pretends he doesn't notice it when he walks up to greet the boy. The boy startles at the sight of Cyberdramon, but Ryo affects a casual confidence that generally puts most people at ease when it's combined with the uniform.

"Akiyama Ryo, resource management ranger," he says by way of greeting. The boy nods at him and attempts a Japanese-style bow that's a little too low and stiff; Ryo appreciates the effort and bows back. "This is my partner, Cyberdramon."

"Almstedt. Eilert Almstedt." The boy starts with a stammer, but it tapers off as he relaxes. His Japanese is halting and uncertain, but understandable enough. "My friend… down there." He gestures over the edge of a cliff. "The… anchor point? Became loose. Wind too strong."

Ryo nods; it's enough to give him an idea what happened. One or more of the belay anchors must have gotten loose, which isn't too surprising given the strength of the winds and how easily one can get banged about by it. He keeps his sentences short and simple so as to reduce the chances of being misunderstood. "Please tell your friend not to panic. Cyberdramon and I will fly down. Cyberdramon will carry him in his hands. Can you relay that?"

The boy beams, relieved, and shouts over the cliff in a language Ryo only barely recognizes due to all the visitors he encountered over the years. The climber shouts back, and the boy turns to give Ryo a nod. Ryo climbs back onto Cyberdramon's back and soon enough his partner flies over the edge of the cliff.

The climber is older, perhaps the boy's older brother, and his eyes are wide with barely fettered fear. Cyberdramon hovers while Ryo attempts to coax the climber into letting himself be rescued. "Hi, I'm a ranger," he begins in his most soothing voice, though the uniform is usually enough to identify him. "Would you like help?"

The man nods vigorously, and Ryo continues in the same tones. "This is Cyberdramon," he says as he pats Cyberdramon's neck. "He's my best friend and I trust him with my life. Will you let him carry you?"

The man's pale eyes dart between Ryo and his partner and Cyberdramon's claws, and he looks like he's going to start hyperventilating at any minute. Yet it's a thirty meter drop into the rocky relics of avalanches both long past and fairly recent, and the climber's eyes dart downwards more than once. When a minute passes, he breathes deeply and nods. Cyberdramon's hands close around his midriff, and they ascend slowly up the cliff. The boy backs away from the edge, leaving room for Cyberdramon to set the man gently on the ground. The man stumbles on shaky legs, but he rights himself just soon enough for the boy to run up to him with a hug. Ryo would leave them alone, but the nearest inn is three kilometers away, right over that cliff and through rugged, heavily-wooded land with no walking path.

"How are you? Do you have a place to stay," he asks as politely as he can, and only when it looks like they're willing to talk.

The man has a better mastery of Japanese than the boy. "I will ache for a week, but no bones are broken. We are at the hotel in Souunkyo."

That's a relief. Few things ruin a vacation like broken bones. "Will you need any assistance to return?"

"No, but thank you." The man smiles and thanks him again, and Ryo gives him his business card in case they come across trouble.

 

**4:30 p.m.**

All in all, it wasn't a bad day. He drops back into headquarters in Kamikawa to drop off his things, check out, and lets the admin officer chew his ear for a bit. Monodramon takes the time to fill out his timesheet (Ryo is salaried, Monodramon isn't), and they head home when he's done.

Like many afternoons before and since, they end up taking a nap on the couch the moment they close the front door behind them.


End file.
